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- Джэйн Эйр
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"
I
think
I
hear
Mrs.
Fairfax
move
,
sir
,
"
said
I.
"
Well
,
leave
me
:
"
he
relaxed
his
fingers
,
and
I
was
gone
.
I
regained
my
couch
,
but
never
thought
of
sleep
.
Till
morning
dawned
I
was
tossed
on
a
buoyant
but
unquiet
sea
,
where
billows
of
trouble
rolled
under
surges
of
joy
.
I
thought
sometimes
I
saw
beyond
its
wild
waters
a
shore
,
sweet
as
the
hills
of
Beulah
;
and
now
and
then
a
freshening
gale
,
wakened
by
hope
,
bore
my
spirit
triumphantly
towards
the
bourne
:
but
I
could
not
reach
it
,
even
in
fancy
--
a
counteracting
breeze
blew
off
land
,
and
continually
drove
me
back
.
Sense
would
resist
delirium
:
judgment
would
warn
passion
.
Too
feverish
to
rest
,
I
rose
as
soon
as
day
dawned
.
I
both
wished
and
feared
to
see
Mr.
Rochester
on
the
day
which
followed
this
sleepless
night
:
I
wanted
to
hear
his
voice
again
,
yet
feared
to
meet
his
eye
.
During
the
early
part
of
the
morning
,
I
momentarily
expected
his
coming
;
he
was
not
in
the
frequent
habit
of
entering
the
schoolroom
,
but
he
did
step
in
for
a
few
minutes
sometimes
,
and
I
had
the
impression
that
he
was
sure
to
visit
it
that
day
.
But
the
morning
passed
just
as
usual
:
nothing
happened
to
interrupt
the
quiet
course
of
Adele
's
studies
;
only
soon
after
breakfast
,
I
heard
some
bustle
in
the
neighbourhood
of
Mr.
Rochester
's
chamber
,
Mrs.
Fairfax
's
voice
,
and
Leah
'
s
,
and
the
cook
's
--
that
is
,
John
's
wife
--
and
even
John
's
own
gruff
tones
.
There
were
exclamations
of
"
What
a
mercy
master
was
not
burnt
in
his
bed
!
"
"
It
is
always
dangerous
to
keep
a
candle
lit
at
night
.
"
"
How
providential
that
he
had
presence
of
mind
to
think
of
the
water-jug
!
"
"
I
wonder
he
waked
nobody
!
"
"
It
is
to
be
hoped
he
will
not
take
cold
with
sleeping
on
the
library
sofa
,
"
etc.
.
To
much
confabulation
succeeded
a
sound
of
scrubbing
and
setting
to
rights
;
and
when
I
passed
the
room
,
in
going
downstairs
to
dinner
,
I
saw
through
the
open
door
that
all
was
again
restored
to
complete
order
;
only
the
bed
was
stripped
of
its
hangings
.
Leah
stood
up
in
the
window-seat
,
rubbing
the
panes
of
glass
dimmed
with
smoke
.
I
was
about
to
address
her
,
for
I
wished
to
know
what
account
had
been
given
of
the
affair
:
but
,
on
advancing
,
I
saw
a
second
person
in
the
chamber
--
a
woman
sitting
on
a
chair
by
the
bedside
,
and
sewing
rings
to
new
curtains
.
That
woman
was
no
other
than
Grace
Poole
.
There
she
sat
,
staid
and
taciturn-looking
,
as
usual
,
in
her
brown
stuff
gown
,
her
check
apron
,
white
handkerchief
,
and
cap
.
She
was
intent
on
her
work
,
in
which
her
whole
thoughts
seemed
absorbed
:
on
her
hard
forehead
,
and
in
her
commonplace
features
,
was
nothing
either
of
the
paleness
or
desperation
one
would
have
expected
to
see
marking
the
countenance
of
a
woman
who
had
attempted
murder
,
and
whose
intended
victim
had
followed
her
last
night
to
her
lair
,
and
(
as
I
believed
)
,
charged
her
with
the
crime
she
wished
to
perpetrate
.
I
was
amazed
--
confounded
.
She
looked
up
,
while
I
still
gazed
at
her
:
no
start
,
no
increase
or
failure
of
colour
betrayed
emotion
,
consciousness
of
guilt
,
or
fear
of
detection
.
She
said
"
Good
morning
,
Miss
,
"
in
her
usual
phlegmatic
and
brief
manner
;
and
taking
up
another
ring
and
more
tape
,
went
on
with
her
sewing
.
"
I
will
put
her
to
some
test
,
"
thought
I
:
"
such
absolute
impenetrability
is
past
comprehension
.
"
"
Good
morning
,
Grace
,
"
I
said
.
"
Has
anything
happened
here
?
I
thought
I
heard
the
servants
all
talking
together
a
while
ago
.
